


Out of Nowhere

by onequartercanadian



Category: White Collar
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amputation, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Limb loss, Loss of Limbs, Neal!whump, Pain, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Revenge, Sad, Torture, Trauma, Trauma Recovery, Vendettas, Violence, Whump, family helping after tragedy, involuntary limb loss, literal pain, pain and suffering and agony oh my!, so much pain, so much sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 10:11:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9651275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onequartercanadian/pseuds/onequartercanadian
Summary: Neal was coming back from getting lunch when two sadists come back with a vendetta to settle. The result changes Neal's life forever. Although luckily, he's not alone.





	1. The Day Everything Changed

**Author's Note:**

> Instead of working on my other fics this happened. Much like this title, this fic idea also came out of nowhere.
> 
> Also still looking for someone to bounce ideas off of. If you're interested, let me know.

Peter and Neal walked down the stairs from Peter’s office. Peter said, “It’s your turn to get lunch.”

“Sure, what do you want?” Neal asked as they approached his desk.

“My usual from the place on the corner.” Peter replied and handed him some cash.

“Coming right up.” Neal said with a smile. “Then I can tell you about the 5 mortgage fraud cases I solved in five minutes earlier today.”

“Looking forward to it.” Peter said with a knowing smile. Neal grabbed his hat from his desk and left for the elevators.

He walked to the deli around the corner and got Peter his usual deviled ham and a sandwich for himself.

As he was walking back he felt odd. Like he was being followed. He kept walking. He was only a block from the office. A block til he was in a building full of Feds. A block till safety from whoever may be following him. That made him feel better.

All of a sudden Neal was hit behind the knees with something really hard. It felt like a baseball bat to him. Then he was hit over the head seemingly with the same object.

He fell unconscious to the ground.

* * *

 After Neal had been gone about 15 minutes Peter’s phone started buzzing. He figured it was Elizabeth calling to say hi or something. It was a message saying that Neal’s anklet wasn’t transmitting.

“Son of a bitch.” Peter muttered. He looked on the map to see where it stopped transmitting. He wasn’t shocked to find that it happened only seconds earlier.

Although he was shocked to find that it happened only a block from the Bureau. He checked the data, he was just at the deli he was supposed to be at and he was seemingly walking back due to his route.

Peter knew that something bad happened.

He called out to the bullpen for Jones and Diana, giving them the double finger point. They came up to his office and Peter said, “Something happened to Neal.”

“On the way from getting lunch?” Jones asked

“I just got word that the anklet stopped transmitting. He was just at the deil he was supposed to be at and was only a block away from here. With this data, him running makes no goddamn sense.”

Jones and Diana nodded, they understood. “Well tell that to the Marshalls when they get here.” Jones said.

“I will.” Peter answered. When they came a short time later Peter told them his theory and evidence. The Marshalls mostly believed him.

“We’ll find out what happened, Boss.” Diana said

“I know we will.” Peter said with confidence

* * *

 Neal woke up to find he was restrained to a chair. He sighed of exhaustion and looked around. He was up in a warehouse in another part of the city. Even though the room was large with large windows he couldn’t identify which part of the city.

He knew that he had two options. Wait and bide his time until Peter came and inevitably found him. Because he looked and the anklet was gone so he knew that Peter was already looking for him. He knew that with his GPS history and full intent of going back to the office. Peter wouldn’t really think that he ran. Or he could try to break free and run.

He figured he’d try both and do whichever happened first.

Suddenly two men came into the room and into view.

“Well hello there.” One man said. He was probably middle aged, brown hair that was balding, he looked strong yet he was heavier than he should have been. He spoke with a thick Russian accent.

The man next to him was the same but with black hair.

“It’s Peter Burke’s little pet, Neal Caffrey.”

“We’ve been looking for you.” The black haired man said

“Yeah so will Peter.” Neal retorted, “That’s kinda his thing. You don’t have long before he finds me and you’re in cuffs.”

“We don’t need too much time.” The brown haired man said as he picked up the baseball bat from the nearby wall. That’s when Neal got really terrified.

The brown haired man swag the bat with full force hitting Neal in the stomach. Neal let out a gasp in pain. He was left breathless.

The men took turns between hitting Neal with the bat and punching him in the face.

“Your pal, Burke, got our friend a decade.” The black haired man said menacingly

“Well he probably did something to deserve it.” Neal retorted, keeping a calm and cool exterior. The black haired man punched him the face again.

“Burke messed with the wrong people. He’s going to find that out.” The brown haired man said fuming with anger. He continued,

“We’ll fuck you up. Then we’ll kill you. Don’t worry, Burke will know. He just won’t be able to do shit about it. Until we tell him where we dumped your body.”

Neal retorted, bloody and bruised, “We’ll see about that.” Which got him another blow to the stomach.

After the beating Neal’s face was bruised and bloody. His sweaty hair stuck to his head. His left eye was swollen shut and he was sure that he had internal bleeding in his chest and stomach due to the blows by the bat.

The men finally left Neal alone. For now.

Neal was finally able to catch his breath and work on trying to get the fuck out of there.

* * *

 Peter and the entire division were scrambling trying to figure out what the fuck happened to Neal. When abruptly Peter’s office phone rang. He picked it up and a deep voice, like one made via a voice changer said,

“We’ve got your precious CI. It would be terrible if something were to happen to him. Like maybe fishing his body out of the East River.”

“You son of a bitch. You’re not going to get away with this.”

The man on the other end laughed maniacally “You messed with the wrong people, Burke.” and hung up.

Peter slammed the phone down and yelled, “Son of a bitch!” He informed Jones and Diana of the call. They were going to try to trace it.

“Have you found anything from the traffic cams?” He asked Diana

“No. There is footage of two larger men hitting Neal with a baseball bat twice before tossing him in a van but they were wearing ski masks.”

“Any luck with the van?”

“Not so far, but I still have a few avenues I want to check out.” Diana informed

“Good. Go. Do.” Peter commanded. Diana left and Peter tried to take a few breaths to calm down. He knew he wouldn’t be able to truly breathe again until Neal was back safe.

* * *

 While the men were not in the room Neal focused on trying to get the duct tape from around his hands. It took him a while but eventually he managed to wriggle out of it. He got up and was able to really inspect the area.  There wasn’t anything he could use as a weapon and there was no way he could overpower them in event of a fight.

So as he tried to find his way out of the warehouse he walked as stealthly as he could. After a little while he managed to get outside, it was late afternoon. He looked around and saw a lot of other warehouses. He could tell he was a few miles from the Bureau. He figured he’d find a place to contact Peter shortly.

He didn’t know which direction so he figured he’d just wing it. He started by running to the left of where he came out of the warehouse. Although it was tough for him to run with all the bruising and bleeding from the earlier beating.

He was about three blocks away when he saw the large black haired man coming out in front of him. His heart stopped.  He tried to go right but he realized that the brown haired man was not too far behind him.

He ran for his life, but it was not enough, for the brown haired man tackled him and Neal’s head bounced off the pavement. 

 

Peter was checking anyone whom they had put away over the years who had a grudge. There was one guy who very likely. His name was Vladimir Katanova. He was very recently sentenced to ten years for money laundering. His brothers, Alexander and Viktor, had a thing for revenge. 

He ran down to the bullpen with their files and said urgently to Diana, “I know who did it! Find them!”

“Got it, Boss.” Diana said grabbing the file from his hand.

* * *

 Neal woke up lying down restrained to a table. He looked around and saw that no one was there.

“Fuck.” He muttered. He knew this was off the charts, oh shit I could actually die, levels of bad.

He examined the restraints, they weren’t duct tape but rope. He knew there was a chance that he could get out of them but he knew it was unlikely by the way they were tied. He took a few deep breathes and prayed that Peter was close to finding him.

Alexander (with black hair) and Viktor (with brown hair) walked into the room.

Alexander said, “We knew you had a thing about running. Didn’t know if you’d try it.”

Neal commented, “What can I say. It’s a habit.”

Viktor chuckled maniacally and said, “The con man is ever so calm and collected. We’re going to take that away from you. We’ll also make sure that you running is never a problem again.”

Neal hid how absolutely fucking terrified he was. Alexander left the room and came back with a very large katana and slowly walked towards him.

Neal could not hide his terror any longer.

Alexander said while looking at the weapon, “This should eventually kill you.”

Neal was squirming on the table. He started begging and pleading for his life. “Please don’t. Please. You don’t have to do this. Please.”

The sadistic brothers smiled at Neal’s increasingly louder pleas. “Please I’ll do anything, please.”

Viktor watched with a smile as Alexander lightly dragged the katana up and down Neal’s bruised and bloody body.

“Please don’t. Please. Please don’t kill me.”

Viktor said, “We’re not going to kill you. We’re going to maim you and you’ll die from that. It should be very slow and excruciatingly painful.”

Neal’s heart was already racing so fast he thought that he was going to have a heart attack. Alexander slowly brought the katana to just below his right knee.

“Please no. Please don’t.” Neal pleaded and yelled, trying to squirm away but failing. Viktor came and held down his right leg.

“I’m going to solve the the problem of you running off.” Alexander said while looking down at the leg. He brought the katana up behind his head.

Neal death gripped the table and screamed, “NO NO NO NO NOOOO!!!!!”

Alexander swung the katana down hitting Neal’s leg with enough force to cut through the muscle and some of the bone.

Neal screamed deafening, blood curdling screams.

Alexander swung again and sliced clean through Neal’s leg.

Neal’s deafening screams echoed throughout the warehouse and onto the empty street below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry the comfort will come. Soon.


	2. The Greatest Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter scrambles to find Neal.

A while later Viktor pulled an unconscious Neal from the table and leaned him up against the nearby wall. Neal was almost deathly pale, his pulse was shallow and his breathing was ragged and irregular. Along with being almost deathly pale his skin was cold and clammy, yet he was still sweating.

“Now it’s time to give Burke the message.” Alexander said while cleaning Neal’s blood off his katana with a cloth.

“What should we do with him?” Viktor asked

“He should be dead soon. Seems like shock has set in. He’s not going anywhere. Just leave him.” Alexander answered and put down his weapon. Viktor nodded.

* * *

Peter called Jones and Diana up to his office and asked angrily yet exhausted, “Do you have any clue where Viktor and Alexander could be?”

“Not yet. We’re working on it.” Jones said

“Well fucking work faster!” Peter yelled. He sighed, “We need to find him before they kill him. Or worse.”

Peter didn’t know it was already too late for that.

Soon a delivery man appeared with a large and heavy package. He asked a nearby agent,

“Where’s Agent Burke? I have a package for him.” The busy agent pointed upstairs to Peter’s office.

The delivery man put the package on the conference room table. Then went into Peter’s office and said, “Someone dropped off a package for you. It’s large and heavy so I put it on the conference room table.”

Peter was confused as to why a package was left for him. “Who sent it?” He asked while looking at his computer.

“I don’t know. Some guy called for a pickup from a warehouse and said it was urgent. There was also a message.” He gave Peter the piece of paper.  

“Did you see the man?” Diana asked

“No. It was sitting outside on the curb.”

“What address?” Diana asked

“Umm.” The guy thought for a second, “I don’t remember. It was a few miles east.”

“You don’t remember?” Peter asked

“It’s been a _really_ busy day. I have to go.” He said and left.

“What does that say?” Jones asked

Peter looked at the small piece of paper and read it, “I know you’ve had problems with him running. So did we. So we fixed that problem for you.” His voice got slower and more unsteady towards the end. The three wordlessly went into the conference room and saw the large crate. They examined the crate and everyone noticed the bits of blood on one end that seemed to have seeped through.

“Is that?” Jones asked hesitantly

Peter was terrified to open the crate. But he knew he had to do it.

He unsecured the top and took a deep breath before lifting up the top.

What they saw shook them to their core. Easily being the most horrifying and grotesque thing they had ever seen.

It was Neal’s bare right leg.

Toes to just below his knee.

“Oh dear Lord.” Diana said in shock backing away from the table.

“Oh my god.” Jones said in shock and fought back the overwhelming urge to vomit.

Peter stared in shock. He couldn’t move or breathe or even think for at least a solid minute. When Peter finally came to it he said slowly and in a low voice through gritted teeth, pure rage in his voice, “Find them. Now. Get that delivery guy back and force him to remember where he picked up that package. Make sure EMS is at the scene when we find him. Tell Lenox Hospital to be on standby for him.”

Jones and Diana nodded and left the conference room.

“I’m going to get Forensics on the line and see if they can determine if Neal was alive when this happened.” Diana told him

“If he was alive, God help him.” Jones replied

“If he was alive, he won’t be for long.” Diana said

* * *

Diana came running up to Peter’s office. “Boss! I found them!”

“Where?!” Peter asked urgently

“They were spotted trying to go through the Manhattan Bridge 10 minutes ago. I had them stopped and brought here.”

“Were they alone?”

“Yes.”

Peter slammed his fist on the desk. “Damnit!”

They were brought in a short while later and put into the interrogation room.

Peter slowly walked into the room. He had a face of pure murder. The Katanova brothers had sadistic smiles are their faces.

“Where is he?” He demanded through gritted teeth

“Aww, you want your pet back.” Alexander said, keeping the smile on his face.

“It’s probably too late.” Viktor commented

“You got our message?” Alexander asked with the same expression

Peter slammed his fist on the table and yelled, “WHERE IS HE!?”

The brothers stayed calm. Viktor calmly said, “The warehouse yard a few miles east of here.” Alexander gave his bitchface, Viktor said to him, “What? He’s probably dead by now anyway.” Alexander nodded in agreement.

“Which one?” Peter was in no mood for their shit. “Which warehouse?”

“The one off of 33rd and 2nd.” Alexander informed

Peter stormed off and yelled to his team, “He’s at 33rd and 2nd in the old warehouse yard! I want EMS on the scene as we arrive!”

* * *

 

Peter and his team hurried to the address. It was now early evening. When they got to the warehouse they noticed it was large and had about four stories.

“Son of a bitch.” Peter muttered

FBI surrounded the building. They did a floor by floor sweep on the building. When Peter started his sweep of the fourth floor he continued calling out, “Neal! Neal! Can you hear me?”

Peter continued searching the dark warehouse with his flashlight. He finally saw someone. He knew it must be Neal.

“NEAL!” Peter yelled and rushed over to him.

Other than the obvious, Neal looked like death. He was unconscious and there were blood and bruises all over him. He looked pale, cold, and clammy. Peter took his pulse, it was weak and his breathing was shallow.

“GET EMS OVER HERE NOW!” Peter yelled

“I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry. It’s going to be okay, Neal. Help is coming.” Peter comforted his unconscious friend.

EMS got there and evaluated him before getting him on a stretcher. Peter followed them to the ambulance.

 

After they loaded Neal in Peter jumped in without a second thought.

On the way to the hospital the EMTs were trying to get him stable. Suddenly Neal went into cardiac arrest.

The EMT immediately started to administer meds to restart his heart while his partner started chest compressions. Peter sat there freaking the fuck out.

They managed to get his heart going again, but it was difficult to the amount of blood loss.

“He’s going to need a blood transfusion ASAP. As soon as they completely close the incision on the leg.” One EMT told his partner.  

“Is he going to live?” Peter asked

“We’re working on it.” The EMT said while trying to keep Neal stable.

 

When they got to the hospital Neal was run into the ER for triage.

A nurse showed Peter to the waiting area outside the ER. Peter finally sat down and took a few deep breathes.

For the first time he started to comprehend the day’s events. He put his head in his hands and started to cry.

After a long cry he checked his phone. It was after 8pm. Elizabeth had called him a few times, probably to ask when he was coming home. He called her number.

She answered in her normal cheery tone, “Hey, Hun. Just wondering when you’re coming home.” Even just the sound of his wife’s voice made Peter relax a little and feel just a little bit better.

“Something happened to Neal.” Peter said. Elizabeth quickly noted the sadness and exhaustion in his voice.

“What’s wrong? Is he okay?” She asked urgently and concerned

“Just get down to Lenox Hospital. Call Mozzie and get him down here too.”

The fact that Peter didn’t say anything, along with his demeanor. Elizabeth knew it was urgent. That something terrible had happened.

“Okay. We’ll be right there.” Elizabeth replied, Peter hung up before she could say anything else.

Peter paced the waiting area.

Neal was soon rushed to surgery so the surgeons could work on what was left of his right leg. Peter was pacing the waiting room when Elizabeth and Mozzie arrived.

Elizabeth gave her husband a hug and asked, “What happened?”

Peter said in shock, “He just went out to get lunch from deli on the corner. He was only suppose to be gone a few minutes.” Tears started to fall from his eyes.

Mozzie was very concerned and asked, “What happened, Peter?”

Peter was silent for a moment then said, “There’s these guys, the Katanovas. We recently put one away and his brothers have a thing for revenge.”

“They jumped him outside the deli.” Mozzie realized, Peter nodded.

“This was all to fuck with me. For revenge.” Peter said, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“What else happened?” Mozzie asked. They were in the hospital, he knew something else happened.

Peter went silent. He went to say out loud for the first time, but he couldn’t. He started tearing up again. “Neal tried to escape. He failed. They found him. They,” He paused and took a deep breath, wiping the tears from his eyes again, “They cut off his right leg.”

The two looked at him in shock.

“W-what?” Mozzie asked in shock, “They c-cut his. What? Why?”

“We recently put away their other brother. They’re sadists who wanted revenge.”

“So they fucking dismember him!!?” Mozzie shouted in shock, “I thought that you were supposed to have his back! So what the fucking fuck happened?!” Mozzie knew what Neal had to do was dangerous. He had to trust that Peter had Neal’s back because what they did was dangerous and they needed to have someone watching out for them. Neal had come home bruised and bloody more than once since he started working with Peter.

“He was just getting lunch.” Peter started to explain, but his voice sounded so far away, “He was only supposed to be gone a few minutes. It was right on the corner. I had no idea these guys were planning this. Then his anklet went dead and they called me, just to taunt me. They continued to taunt me even after we caught them.” Peter said remembering how it all started early that afternoon. “They sent me a note...along with _something else_.”

“ _Noooo.”_ Mozzie knew where this was going.

Elizabeth gave her husband a hug.

“What did the note say?” Elizabeth asked

Peter got angry remembering the note. Anger steaming from his voice he said, “It said, that they knew we had a problem with him running, so they said that they ‘fixed’ it.”

“Oh God.” They said in shock

A few moments later Mozzie asked, “Is he going to live?”

“The doctors are working on him now. He was in such a bad shape. They also beat him pretty badly and the doctors believe that he has an infection from his leg and that he went into shock after it happened.”

“Oh God.” They muttered again

“Can...can they...reattach it?” Mozzie hesitantly asked

“I don’t think so.” Peter replied sorrowfully

* * *

 

So they waited for the doctor. It felt like centuries. Finally the doctor came to see them.

“How’s Neal?” Peter immediately asked

The doctor, Doctor Lang, replied, “Neal’s lucky to be alive. He’s out of surgery and stable. We’re giving him antibiotics for the infection and treating him for shock. We did some tests and he also has a concussion. He must have hit his head during the ordeal. As for the leg, we put him on morphine. We examined the leg your team gave us, reattachment was never a real option. The way it was cut, the way the bone was sliced. We saved what we could and fixed up the rest. We cleaned and sewed it closed. I’m so sorry.”

“When can I see him?” Peter asked

“He’s sedated right now but you soon be able to see him shortly.” She replied, “Also, one more thing. The kind of pain that he went through.” She asked Elizabeth, “Have you ever given birth?’

“No, why?”

“Because I was going to compare it giving birth but this makes that look easy. As we understand he didn’t have any medications in his system at the time. He might have been so delirious from pain along with the shock. He might not remember what happened.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked

“He was in so much pain that he just won’t remember what happened.”

“So we’ll have to tell him what happened.” Mozzie clarified

“Yes.” She responded

Peter sighed and put his head in his hands.

“Can we please see him?” Mozzie asked

“He’s not awake yet, but fine. The nurses are finishing up with the bandages.” Doctor Lang replied and directed them to his room.

* * *

 

They walked in and saw Neal lying there unconscious. He was covered in bandaged, including the amputated right leg. He was on a nasal cannula, heart monitor, and numerous iv’s. They tried not to stare at what was left of Neal’s leg.

They all sat and waited.

Soon Neal started to stir, it got everyone’s attention. Neal woke with a groan.

“It’s okay, you’re in the hospital.” Peter told him, sitting right next to him.

Neal was groggy from the drugs, “What the hell happened?”

“You don’t remember?” Peter asked concerned

“No. Just some bastards kicking my ass and me running. Then nothing.  I feel like I was hit by a bus though.” Neal said groggily

There was silence in the room. Neal asked, “I wasn’t hit by a bus was I?”

“Close.” Mozzie responded

Neal grew scared and confused by how worried they all looked. He looked to Peter and asked, “What happened?”

Peter was quiet. He took a deep breath before saying, “You remember running from them?”

“Yeah, but nothing after. Why? What happened?” Neal was very concerned. He didn’t know. He didn’t remember anything.

“Well they caught up with you, and…” Peter’s voice trailed off.

“And what?” Neal asked

Peter looked down the bed towards Neal’s leg. Neal followed Peter’s gaze.

He screamed in shock when he saw his right leg reduced to a bandaged stump, stopping just below the knee.

He felt all around the bed and the leg. Neal was in a full scale panic attack. He was hyperventilating and soon started crying.

“NO! NO! NO! What the fuck! What the fuck! What the FUCK!? NO!” He yelled through his tears. He looked at Peter in despair. Peter gave him a warm consoling hug and Neal held on tight and cried into Peter’s neck.

“They took my leg. They took my leg. They took my leg.” Neal muttered over and over between heart wrenching sobs while holding on tight to his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I went to highschool with this guy who broke his femur playing soccer. He said that because of the //intense// pain he doesn't actually remember breaking it. Just playing soccer then waking up in a hospital. His teammates said that he was completely delirious after it happened. So yeah that's where that last scene or so came from.
> 
> Never found out how he managed to break the strongest bone in his body while playing soccer...but okay.


	3. Please Don't Fight These Hands That Are Holding You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal pushes his family away in the aftermath of the accident. He soon realizes how that will end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took so long. I have other fics and a busy life. I'm sorry.  
> Also I always strive for realism in my fics and I deeply apologize for any medical errors in this fic.  
> Title taken from By your Side by; Tenth Avenue North and partially inspired by Besides You by; Marianas Trench.

The doctor eventually sedated Neal due to his understandable spike in heart rate and blood pressure, saying that it wasn’t good for his healing body.

The next morning he was doing much better. The strong antibiotics along with other meds were doing their jobs and Neal was starting to recover from the infection and shock. Neal woke up with a groan. He looked over and saw Peter sitting there thumbing through a magazine.

“Was yesterday part of some fucked up dream?” Neal groggily asked

Peter immediately put the magazine down and looked at him, “Depends. What do you remember happening?”

Neal looked down for just a second then back up and sighed. He wanted to cry again, but he held back the tears.

Soon Doctor Lang came back in and started to talk to Neal about post-op requirements and his future of recovery. Peter was listening, he looked over to Neal and noticed that he wasn’t hearing a damn word that she was saying.

Neal’s eyes looked glazed over and he looked distant. A normal person wouldn’t really notice but because Peter was Peter he knew.

Everything Doctor Lang said was in a blur to Neal. Like it wasn’t really real. He looked around the room, distracting himself. The doctor’s voice like hazy background noise.

He just couldn’t believe this was happening.

That this was his life now.

Everything had happened so suddenly Neal had barely had time to wrap his head around it.

Now it was over and he was stuck with the aftermath.

It seemed to Neal that one minute he was going to grab a quick lunch and the next minute a doctor was talking to him about prosthetic limbs.

As the doctor started talking about getting him fitted for a temporary prosthetic. Neal started to get angry. This red boiling hot rage started surging through him.

He didn’t want to listen to the doctor anymore. He didn’t want to hear any of it. He just wanted to be alone. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to punch the wall until there was nothing left of it.

But instead he sat there and distracted himself from his new reality the doctor was telling him about.

Peter could see these emotions. Because he knew Neal better than anyone. He could tell he was at the end of his rope with this doctor. He was going to tell her leave, then pull her aside and tell her that maybe telling him about all the post-op appointments and requirements was too much information to deal with at once. That maybe she should tell him in pieces.

Just then Doctor Lang finished by saying, “Finally, although this isn’t required I still _strongly strongly_ suggest it. You should talk to someone about what happened. I’ll give you the names of some psychologists that would help.” Neal was silent with a pissed off expression, “I’ll get in touch with the prosthetist and I’ll be back later. You’re young and mostly healthy. Your body is responding very well to the antibiotics. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t be quite mobile in the next few months if you heal and recover quickly.”

She left, leaving Peter and Neal alone. Neal wanted to tell Peter to leave, because he just wanted to be by himself.

He turned to Peter and said, “Yesterday at this time we were sitting in your office drinking coffee and talking.”

Peter nodded, knowing how drastically different things were just twenty four hours earlier. “I know.” There was silence for a few moments. Peter said, “The doctor seems optimistic about your recovery. So that’s good.”

Neal huffed and looked away. He said, “Oh yey.” His words dripped of sarcasm. Peter sighed. He knew this was the beginning of an uphill battle.

Neal said, anger and resentment seeping through his voice, “Aren’t you supposed to be at work or something?” He was trying to get Peter to leave him alone.

“No. It can run without me.” Peter simply responded. He didn’t want to leave Neal. He didn’t want Neal to be alone.

Peter reminded him, “Neal, please remember that you’re not alone. You have people who love you and want to help you. _Please_ . _Remember that._ ” Peter pleaded

Neal stared straight ahead.

Peter didn’t know if Neal heard him, “Neal. Did you hear me?”

“Yeah.” Neal shortly responded, still looking straight ahead. He looked over and Peter and said, “You should go.”

Peter was caught off guard by this. He was uncertain, “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You don’t need to be here.” Neal responded. Peter heard the anger and resentment seeping back into his voice.

“No, I want to be. Because I want to help you.” Peter declared

“I see the way you’ve been looking at me. How sad you are.” Neal told him, Peter couldn’t deny it. “So just...leave. Please.” Neal was trying not yell.

Peter respected his wishes, “Okay. I’ll be back later.”

After Peter left Neal continued looking straight ahead, refusing to look down at his lack of leg. There was a pitcher of water and a cup on a table nearby. Neal pushed them off angrily and started sobbing yet again.

* * *

Peter met Elizabeth for lunch that day.

Elizabeth was quick to ask, “How’s Neal doing?”

“Not well.” Peter responded, Elizabeth was sympathetic. “He kicked me out this morning.”

“His life took a drastic turn so quickly. Give him some time to process it all.”  
“Yeah the doctor was in this morning talking about post-op requirements and rehab. Even I found all the sudden information overwhelming. Also, I could tell he wasn’t paying attention. I hated leaving him. He just seemed to angry and overwhelmed. So _lost_. I just want to help him.” Elizabeth could hear the immense hurt in Peter’s voice.

Elizabeth rubbed her husband’s shoulder, “I know. We all do. We’ll help him. We won’t give up. Just give him some time to adjust.”

“Yeah I know.” Peter knew not to overdo it. He knew that pushing Neal would make him retreat in.

“When he wants us, we’ll be there.” Elizabeth assured

* * *

 Peter was soon called into the office. He walked into the office to see someone from the Marshal's office waiting in his office. He knew it wasn’t good. He walked into his office and greeted him, “Hello. What can I do for you?”

The man, middle aged with salt and pepper hair and a beer belly responded, “I’m Agent Boone from the Marshall’s office. We heard about Caffrey’s accident. It’s very unfortunate.”

Peter nodded and wondered what their angle was. He quickly realized that he was going to ask when he can start working again. That pissed him off to no end. The accident literally just happened. The rational part of his brain told him to wait to hear what Boone had to say. He found the strength to listen to that part and stayed silent.

Boone visibly attempted to choose his words very carefully but ended up failing, “Since...well..umm…” He paused. He sighed in defeat and said bluntly, “Okay, to be perfectly candid, physical running is no where in Caffrey’s future, neither is walking for that matter. Or at least not for a long time. Also it would be easy to find someone with a prosthetic limb. So because of that we no longer find him to be a flight risk. So the anklet is kinda redundant. The monitoring is expensive anyway.”

Peter was surprised at their _relative_ humanity. He found it odd.

Boone continued, “Although we would like him back at work as soon as possible. The only thing that would change about the agreement is that the anklet wouldn’t be there.”

‘ _And there it is.’_ Peter thought

“Well I have to get going. I have a meeting. Good day.” Boone excused himself out. Peter left soon after to see Neal.

* * *

 Neal sat in the hospital alone. He refused to look down at his leg. He still had the flimsy hospital blanket over it but it was still obvious. The anger and hurt was so overwhelming that he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was trapped in a foreign body, where there was no escape.

He felt so very _incomplete._

There was a knock on the door. It was Peter. He came in with a bag of food and said, “Thought you probably should eat something.”

“Hey look, you came back from lunch in one piece.” Neal commented, bitterness dripping from his voice

Peter quietly sighed, he should have known there’d be a comment about that. He put the bag on the table near by. He noticed the water pitcher and cup were lying on the floor. He picked them up without a word.

Peter took the two cups of soup out of the bag. Neal only ended up picking at his.

Peter informed him about his impromptu meeting with Marshal Boone.

Neal responded sarcasm still dripping from his voice, “Well if I’d known that I would have chopped off a limb years ago.”

Peter went quiet for a while.

He didn’t know what to say.  He didn’t know what could possibly comfort him. Make him feel less lonely, less lost.

Peter said, “If you ever want to talk. I’m here. I know that you’re upset, angry. Let me in and I can help you.”

“Of course I’m fucking angry!” Neal yelled, “I went to get lunch and I lost a leg!” He huffed and said, “You can’t _possibly_ understand this.”  
Peter replied in a calm tone, “If you let me in I can try.”

“You should go.” Neal sharply replied

“You shouldn’t be alone now.” Peter insisted

“Leave. Now.” Neal said sternly.

Peter left, he would try again later.

* * *

Neal had refused to see anyone in the following few days. That pissed off Peter and Mozzie to no end, but they respected his wishes. Neal's doctor set up an appointment with a prosthetist to get him fitted for a prosthetic. He didn't want to go.

The nurse, Jane, came in that morning with a wheelchair and with her normal friendly smile and said, “I'm here to take you to your fitting.”

“Fine.” Neal shortly responded

Jane went to help him transfer from the bed to the wheelchair.

Neal batted her away and insisted, “I can do it!” Jane backed off and sighed.

Because she knew how this was going to end.

Neal managed to turn to get off the bed, got his left leg off the bed and thought for a second. It was the first time he tried to get up. He lifted his body to attempt to get to the wheelchair. But his arms gave out and he fell to the floor, landing right on his ass.

His face to turned beet red with embarrassment, frustration, and disappointment.

“Now can I help you?” Jane asked kindly. She bent down to help him up, he looked furious but didn't shoo her away.

* * *

Neal waited for the prosthetist in the rehab room. He looked around uncomfortably and saw prosthetic legs and hands on a table nearby. Soon the doctor came in, “Hey. Sorry about the wait.” He apologized. He was young, average height and weight with brown hair and scruff.

He went to shake his hand, “Since we’ll be working together for a while you can call me Dave. Can I call you Neal?”

“How long?” Neal asked uncertain

“Well, until either one of us dies or your leg grows back.” Dave responded

Neal stared at him. Dave said, “That joke only works like half the time.”

“How does this go?” Neal asked

“The whole prosthetics process?” Dave asked,

Neal gave bitchface and sarcastically responded, “No, something else.”

Dave let out a sigh and said, “Well this time I’ll fit you for your temporary prosthetic and work on upper body strength and the strengthening your other leg. You’re going to need both, even with the prosthetic. It’ll take around a week to make it. When it’s done it’ll be fitted and we’ll work on walking on it. Then once all the swelling decreases and the sutures have healed you’ll be fitted for a permanent prosthetic. Any questions?” Dave explained

Neal just stared straight ahead.

“Okay.” Dave said to himself and sighed. He went to get the fitting materials. Neal was mostly silent for the rest of the appointment. Dave was used to his clients not exactly being chatty or friendly when they first come to him. As a prosthetist that came with the job.

As he was writing some things down in a file he asked Neal, “Do you have anyone to help you through this? Friends, Family?”

“Yeah.” Neal shortly responded

Dave closed the file and said to Neal in a serious yet compassionate tone, “Good. You’re going to need to lean on them. Literally and figuratively.”

Neal was silent. Dave had worked in his field longest enough that he knew what that meant.

He was shutting people out.

He put the file on the table nearby and pulled a nearby chair over and sat down. “I don’t know you, but I know when people are shutting out the people who love them. The people who really succeed and truly get their lives back after this are the people who rely on their loved ones. I know that you’re angry and hurt right now, but it _does_ get better.”

Neal scoffed and rolled his eyes, “You don’t know what I’m going through. What’s going through my head.”

“Actually I do.” Dave confronted. He rolled up his dress pant legs to reveal two prosthetic limbs. Neal sat in shock. “Six years ago.” Dave started to inform, “I was working at a field hospital in Afghanistan working in triage and amputations. I was sent out to get some guys caught in a grenade explosion, do triage, and bring them back.” Dave paused, “As I was running to help a guy more grenades exploded nearby. One right near us. Everyone kept telling me that I was lucky to be alive. Hell, I’ve said that to people in the same state. But I thought it was complete bullshit when I was on the other end of it."

He continued, "Then I realized that I _was_ lucky because people died in that explosion. The guy I was running towards, _dead_ . The sent me home as soon as they could. Then I pushed people away. To the point where some stopped trying to help. I eventually realized my errors and recovered. But it could have been _so much sooner_ if I didn’t push all the people out of my corner.” He finished, “So yeah, I _do_ know what you’re going through.” There was a moment of silence before Dave added, “Also yeah I know the irony of the prosthetist needing prosthetics. I worked this field long before the accident.”

Neal sat there in shock.

* * *

After his appointment Neal was back in his room. He sat in thought. He then grabbed his phone from the table and called Peter for the first time in a few days.

“Hey.” Peter said, not expecting this call

“Hey, I’m going to be discharged in a few days. Want to pick me up?”

“Of course.” Peter said in surprise

But Neal letting people in wouldn’t last forever.

 

A few days later Peter came to the hospital to take Neal back to his apartment. Even though Peter would rather Neal stay with him for a while. Neal wouldn’t budge. The hospital hired a home nurse to help him out. They would find it would end swiftly and not well.

They got the house without too much trouble. Neal hadn’t said much since Peter came. When they arrived, Peter got out immediately, He got the elbow crutches from the back and Neal grabbed them from his hand.

“You okay?” Peter asked

“Yes.” Neal lowly snapped as he grabbed the crutches.

Peter worried about Neal going up the few steps to the front door.

Neal slowly managed to get up the few wide steps to the door. Although Peter could tell he was already completely winded, even though Neal tried to hide it. Once they got inside Peter was quickly reminded of what he was _really_ worried about.

The large narrow set of stairs that went up to Neal’s apartment.

“Maybe you should stay on the ground floor for now.” Peter suggested

“No! I can do it!” Neal declared

Peter sighed, he knew this _bound_ to end badly. He stood behind Neal, literally having his back.

Neal managed about two steps before getting winded again. He was already tired from the walk up to the house. He managed another two steps. On the fifth step his arms and leg gave out and he fell.

“It’s okay. I got you.” Peter said with an armful of Neal. Neal turned deep red with frustration. He helped Neal up again and asked kindly, “Can I help you now?” Neal huffed in frustration. Peter took that as yes and put Neal’s right arm around him and helped him up the steps. One at a time.

It took a long time and Neal was completely exhausted after. When they got into his apartment Neal laid down on the bed.

“Do you need anything?” Peter asked

“Yeah you can leave.” Neal replied while getting under the blankets. He needed a nap. He was exhausted and just wanted to sleep all his problems away.

Peter sighed, “Please call if you do. I’ll be right over.”

“I know.” Neal replied

Peter didn’t want to leave. Although he wasn’t going to push Neal so much that Neal pushed him away even more. He would try again later. Yet again. 

* * *

Neal didn’t do much for the next few days except sleep. He didn’t have the motivation to get out of bed.

Especially because it was a lot more difficult now.

One afternoon Neal was lying motionless in bed when he heard a rhythmic knock he knew was Mozzie.

“Neal, your door is locked.” Mozzie called from behind the door

“Yeah because I don’t want anyone to come in. So go away.” Neal called back

He then heard his lock slowly becoming unlocked. Neal sighed and muttered, “Jesus Christ.”

Mozzie came in a few seconds later and commented while putting his lockpick set back in his jacket pocket, “Did you seriously expect me _not_ to do that?”

“What do you want?”

“I know you have a doctor’s appointment today. Since you’ve apparently missed the last two I thought I would come with you to this one.”

It had been about two weeks since the accident and Neal kept missing appointments for his prosthetic.

“I don’t have an appointment.” Neal replied

“I know you did until you cancelled it. I called them earlier today and found that out. I rescheduled it. So come on. Let’s go.” Mozzie said as he grabbed some clothes from the dresser and tossed them on the bed where Neal was sitting under blankets.

“I’m not going.” Neal said

“You have to. You can’t just stay here forever. It’s not good for you.” Mozzie declared and tossed a left sneaker onto the bed next to the t-shirt and sweatpants.

“I’m not going.” Neal said through gritted teeth

“Yes you are if I have to drag you there.” Mozzie declared, “So come on.” He grabbed the wheelchair from the table and brought it over to the bed.

“Leave. Now.” Neal said, anger seeping from his voice. He was trying not to yell. He then laid back down and pulled the blankets over his head.

Mozzie looked down and sighed. He knew he was yet again fighting a losing battle.

He knew pushing more would lead to fighting. He knew that Neal was very close to yelling.

Mozzie calmed down. He said with his voice filled with concern and compassion, “You _have_ to stop pushing everyone away. You’re going to have to let us and the doctors help you so you can get better. What happened was shitty but you _can_ come back from it. You just need to let us help you. We’re not going to give up.”

There was silence.

“Close the door on your way out.” Neal said from under the blankets.

Mozzie sighed and left.

 

Peter heard a knock on his front door and went to answer it. He was surprised to see it was Mozzie.

“He needs help, Peter.”  Mozzie said concerned and dead serious, “I can’t seem to get through to him, but maybe you can.”

Peter replied, “Well what the hell do you think I’ve been doing? I haven’t exactly been sitting on my ass the last few weeks.”

“Well try harder.” Mozzie demanded, “Because I can’t seem to get through to him.”

“And what, I can do better?”

“You’ve gotten through to him when no one else could.” Mozzie responded, “Maybe you can get through this time.”

Peter knew that he had to try again to get through to Neal. Get him to talk, yell, literally anything except pushing away anyone who tries to help him.

* * *

Peter knocked on Neal’s door, “Neal! It’s me. Can I come in?”

He didn’t hear anything which concerned him. The door was open which he found weird.

“Neal?” Peter called

“Go away!” Neal called out. It sounded like he was in the bathroom. Peter also noticed that Neal didn’t sound pissed off like he had been for a while. He sounded sad.

Hurt.

So Peter naturally got even more concerned and rushed towards the bathroom. Just outside of it he found Neal on the floor in just a pair of sweatpants. The crutches were lying haphazardly on the floor. Peter knew he fell again.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked

“Do I look like I’m fucking okay?” Neal sounded angry but he sounded more hurt and defeated. He looked like he was holding back tears.

Neal looked down and said defeated, “Just leave. Please.”

Peter was sick and tired of being pushed away. He wanted to be there for his friend but Neal was making that pretty damn difficult.

“No.” Peter simply said

Neal looked up, confused, “What?”

“No.” Peter repeated

“Get out. Now.” Neal said, voice raising, Peter stood firm, “Leave me! Now! Please!” Neal basically yelled

Peter took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. He was so sick and tired of Neal telling him to leave. He was well beyond his boiling point.

He said with a raised voice, “You are so _fucking_ stubborn! You know that!” He started yelling, “We want to help you! Let us! Let me in goddammit! You don’t have to be alone in this! You shouldn’t be alone in this! So stop fighting us and let us fucking help you! You have family that loves you so stop fucking pushing them away goddammit!”

He stopped yelling and took a few deep breaths to calm down.

Neal was silent and stunned that Peter blew up like that.

Peter now calmer, said sternly, “You have two options. Either I stay with you or you come stay with me. There is no third option.”

Neal stayed silent. So Peter said, “Fine. I’ll stay here. Let’s get you up.” Peter bent down and put Neal’s right arm around him and helped him up. Neal didn’t shoo him away.

He knew that no matter how much he tried, they weren't going to be pushed away.

His family wasn’t going to give up on him.  


End file.
